


White Noise

by Cosmic_Firestorm



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), DCU, The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alien Invasion, Altered Mental States, Ambushes and Sneak Attacks, Angst and Feels, Bittersweet Ending, Fear, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Invasion! Crossover Event (CW DC TV Universe), Loss, Manipulation, Mental Anguish, Mid-Canon, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Mind Games, Nightmares, Partial Mind Control, Partnership, Psychic Bond, Psychic Violence, Psychological Trauma, Shame, Spoilers for DC Week: The Invasion, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-06 10:36:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8747230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmic_Firestorm/pseuds/Cosmic_Firestorm
Summary: Behind Firestorm's blaze, there is the strength of two minds. An alien force has pitted one against the other and though Jefferson once said, and truly believed, that Martin's mind was stronger, in this particular battle, Grey is pulling his punches.Spoilers for DC Week, specifically Flash 3x8: "Invasion"





	1. Breach

The change was unlike anything Martin had ever felt; it couldn’t even be compared to the year he and Ronald had spent wandering, unsure of whom they were anymore. His merge with Valentina Vostok came to mind, which he had spent locked away in a dark corner, only able to observe the pain she was inflicting and plead for his real counterpart to save himself. It had been Jefferson’s urging, the strength of their connection, that had wrenched him out of captivity.

This, however, was far worse than that _because_ of their bond, and Jefferson, being their more physically present half, was first to be harmed for it.

 _“He is not who we want,”_ the Dominator had said of the President. Hearing the alien voice intruding in their mind was enough to send chills through them, but what followed…Martin felt the change as soon as the Dominator force set into them. Darkness crashed down as Jefferson covered his face, clawed at it, and Martin shared a pained gasp with him.

It was like a shockwave to their entire body, down to the roots of the Firestorm matrix, like their fused form was being rewritten under the cover of white noise. Through that static, Martin could hear Jefferson’s panicked thoughts, but they were muffled and growing fainter by the second.

_Grey, what’s happening?! It’s a trap—We walked right into—Grey! Damn it, my head! Grey! Grey!!_

_“Jefferson, can you hear me? Jefferson!”_ Martin cried out, fumbling to use some of their other senses. He had gotten barely a glimpse of whatever had hit them—a brilliant red blaze, one which was assaulting them to their core. To his horror, he could feel its intrusion, stifling Jefferson’s psychic calls for help. Not caring—or perhaps _hoping_ that the boy would hear and feel his panic, Martin scrabbled to grasp whatever reaches of his partner’s mind still held echoes of familiarity. _“No, no, this is wrong—I don’t know what’s happening, Jefferson, but I’m not going to lose you to it! We can and must resist! Please—”_

All at once the darkness vanished and for a split-second, Martin hoped that his pleading had gotten through, but what he saw then choked his thoughts. Through Jefferson’s eyes he quite literally saw red—their sight was warped by viscous shades of crimson, twisting the view of the outside world so tightly, so deeply, that their comrades could hardly be distinguished from each other. The walls of his counterpart’s mind were warping with it, creating a tunnel, one that was collapsing in around him.

_“Jefferson?!”_

Martin had never such terror for his other half as he was now. Their throat went dry, their breath stalled, and their heart raced as the thick red shadows invaded. They stretched out for Martin's part of their mind, closer and closer, until his thoughts kickstarted again and he wrenched back from it. Call it selfish of him, but he had to flee; separating was the only hope he had of saving himself so he could then save his partner from this outside force.

The walls of Firestorm’s mind only closed in further, with it a sickening realization that this wasn’t a vestige of Jefferson’s mind reaching for Martin; it was Jefferson _pinning him down_. Jefferson, the one he knew, the one he cared for, the one who firmly believed everyone deserved free will, would never in his right mind have resorted to cornering Martin like Vostok had. He would never have given rise to the thoughts Martin was sensing from him now: thoughts saying he was something to be conquered, caged, and used—good for nothing but destruction.

 _“No, no, Jefferson, this isn’t you!”_ Martin did his best to recoil further, but he was hitting one mental wall after another, stalling him, trapping him. Under whatever outside influence had affected them, Jefferson was actively attacking his mind and needless to say, Martin’s fear was not only growing but changing. Under this influence, Jefferson himself was something to be feared. Martin had never foreseen anything that could create that notion. Ever so silently, behind the fear, it broke his heart.

 _“Whatever this is doing to you, you have to fight it! Please, my boy, let me help you! Let me go!”_ Martin’s shouts were met only with alien malice and as the mind control locked fully into place, it drowned them out entirely. There was nothing left as evidence that resistance had been there at all, not even an echo.


	2. Bridge

During the chaos of the Invasion and the cleanup afterward, not much had been addressed about the _other_ aspect of what happened—the invasion that had run so much deeper. Even though they had won and everything was going back to normal, Jax was still feeling some ill effects of the mind control. He hated those very words, how short and simple they seemed when they ran so much deeper. Someone had taken his mind and not only had they controlled it, they had _unmade_ it.

He hadn’t really tried to broach the subject with the others; they seemed like they wanted to push the incident to some dark place in the past where it would never be picked up again…It was rather ironic of them, as time travelers. Jax didn’t really have the luxury of forgetting; he wasn’t even being pretentious when he realized that his mind was _different_. The rest of them were their own people, but he was still half of a whole.

He couldn’t even put to words the sensation of the experience; it was too raw for that. What he felt now, however, just might be worse in that he knew he wouldn’t be set right again until his partner was too. Stein was definitely not alright by any stretch of the imagination; Jax could sense that when he slept. The first night after the Invasion, they had both been too spent to think; Jax had only taken the time to make sure Grey was able to move on his own before retreating into dreamless darkness.

The night after that, he’d shot out of bed with short, breathless curses and a keening headache and the first thing he had done was reach out through their bond. Even though Grey was projecting the very same anxiety, he automatically flinched away from the mental touch and Jax had frozen. It had been a silent pact between them that no matter how angry they were with each other, no matter what the day had brought, when one suffered a nightmare and reached out, the other would be there to alleviate the helplessness. It had always been a comfort. Left with an outstretched link that was refused, Jax felt even greater helplessness rise. They were still in trouble, trouble beyond what the others could understand.

Jax visited Stein about it three restless nights later. It was technically a confrontation, but it didn’t feel that way. As Grey retired to his quarters, Jax slipped in behind him, leaning against the door as soon as it closed. Stein turned, an unasked question passing over him, and Jax just looked it in the face, open, tired, and with a question of his own.

“What did I do?”

“I’m sorry, Jefferson, I—I don’t understand.”

“To you. What did I do to you when the Dominators got in our head?” Even in the dark, Jax could see the color draining from Stein’s face and he made half a move forward before pressing more forcefully against the door, maintaining a distance. “I know I must’ve done _somethin’_ , cos you and I haven’t been right these past few nights. Usually you’re all over taking care of that sort of thing, talking through it, but instead you’re pulling away and I…just need to get the facts.” Grey remained as he was, wide-eyed and silent, and Jax winced preemptively. “C’mon, Grey, I can take it,” he urged weakly, nervous guilt stirring in his stomach. “Give it to me straight. You don’t have to downplay it.”

“It—It wasn’t so much what _you_ did,” Stein said in a rushed breath. He faltered for a moment and then soldiered on. “You weren’t yourself, Jefferson.”

“That’s just one of your weird runaround apologies for avoiding me like this!” Jax snapped. “Tell me what I did—what they _made_ me do—that got you hurt.” He had been hurt, he _must’ve_ been, for that was exactly what Jax was seeing: his partner pushing him away because he wanted to treat his wounds on his own. “I’m going to keep coming until you tell me, like it or not,” he added, eyes narrowing.

Grey hesitated for another full minute before releasing another shuddery breath and sinking onto the edge of his bed. “They turned you against me, Jefferson,” he whispered, shaking his head slowly, hauntedly. “It was as though they had completely rewired you, and I was helpless to stop it. I tried to split, for both our sakes, and you wouldn’t let me. You made it your mission to keep me…” He huffed a bitter laugh which was just broken enough not to be an accusation. “…contained.”

“What does that mean?” Jax asked, quite sure that he didn’t want to know, but the guilt was boiling now, fed by Stein’s. The older man didn’t answer that question, but his tightly-clenched hands spoke volumes.

“Eventually I think their instincts, their power got to me too, because then I tried _viciously_ to be…f-free of you.” His voice dropped even lower. “ _Rid_ of you. There were times I thought of forcing your hand to slip somehow, of hurting your body so you would let me go. They set us not only against our friends but against each other and I—I think it’s a tribute to you, dear boy, that you managed to keep mentally beating me down.”

“Don’t say that,” Jax growled without any real ire; words were hard to come by because his throat was tight, so tight that it was the only thing keeping him from throwing up.

“This is the _truth_ , Jefferson,” Stein pleaded. It was a plea for validation; he would never have wanted to share this burden if Jax hadn’t wanted it. Now that he had it, did he still want it? “Firestorm is dangerous. We—we’ve tried so hard to keep it out of the wrong hands and the Dominators were the first enemies we’ve faced to think of the perfect plan: they dirtied _our_ hands.” Glancing up with overly bright eyes, he hissed, “I lost count of how many times I tried to _burn_ you from the inside. I don’t ever want to hurt like that again, in any sense of the word. I can’t forget it. I _can’t forgive_ it.”

Jax could find absolutely nothing to say to that. His legs were shaking too much to hold him anymore, so he stumbled over and sat on the edge of the bed beside his partner. Neither spoke again, but the volume of their shared shame was too much. Eventually Jax made a soft noise that might have been a sob and leaned, gripping Stein’s wrist. That tipped the scales; instantly Grey trembled, closed his eyes, and melted into the touch and they were merged for the first time since the last battle with the aliens. They stayed still, testing the familiarity and closeness which had been breached so violently.

They didn’t relax into it, not like they had before. Right now, they didn’t trust themselves with it. Jax could sense they were of the same mind in that opinion, quite literally, but all too soon, Firestorm would be needed again and they would need to be a cohesive unit.  

If they couldn’t trust or forgive themselves, they would trust and forgive each other. They would hold each other up, since neither had the strength to stand on their own. As one battered, grieving man, Firestorm sank onto his side for the night. His halves remained cold, ashamed, and sleepless, but not lonely. Each stayed close to his counterpart—simply a presence, real and intimate, if not consoling.

After all, who did they have if not each other?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not exactly a happy ending, I know, but these two suffer quite a bit and sometimes all they can settle for is getting through another night. We know they'll recover though, one step at a time.


End file.
